Autumn reflections

It is October... already!

I received a note on my social media page that was sending well wishes to me,

as October is pregnancy loss month.

It was a loving gesture that was totally unexpected

and in all frankness shook me a little first thing in the morning.

 

This is indeed the month when we had the first of our miscarriages.

I will carry that with me forever; I just wasn't expecting someone else to remember it too.

As I was in class this morning, I started to reflect on where I am now, at present, in my life.

 

I think that I am another step back, further from the center of it all. 

I started reading where I was a few years ago and how saturated in sorrow I lived, daily, alone.

Now I seem to be grieving for that person, the person so lost in sorrow it is hard to breathe.

The girl lost in daydreams of a baby.

 I feel so deeply for her,

and want to make her feel better.

Then I remember that I am her/that was me. 

Is that growth, recovery, coming to terms?

I am not sure

I am not living there anymore, I am simply living.
For real; my eyes are open, I am present.
I think that as this year since surgery arrives I realize that I have been freed from guilt.
I was left feeling this was never my doing, I hadn't left a stone unexplored.
So I was allowed to walk again.
Now it is me against a disease; not me against will or desire or drive.
That places a lot of power back into my hands.
So is it growth, or recovery or coming to terms I am still not sure but I am exploring it all.
As I see that girl who was, I embrace her and whisper in her ear...
you did not do this to yourself.
this was never your fault
you were never meant to carry that weight
 

Ch Ch Changes

So remember way back in June I mentioned I got my blood tested and it triggered concern from my doctor about my cholesterol levels?
 I was all pissed and mad and ended up starting this yoga-addiction I am currently in?
I also:

stopped eating cheese
 stopped eating bread

stopped eating whole eggs
(eating only whites sometimes)

stopped eating ice cream

  stopped having the occasional drink

I started taking a vitamin daily and extra Vitamin D

I started to exercise 3-4times a week

I started eating only vegan 5-6 days a week (I am human for goodness sake)

I restricted everything that went into my mouth/body

 

joke: How can you tell someone is vegan?

a: don't worry they'll tell you 

my answer was : they are grumpy and want an ice cream

 

Well, I went back to the doc this month, as an advocate for myself and to see if I could eat goat cheese again and if any of these extreme changes was doing any good.
I mean, if this evil self experiment was really making no difference
what the fuck is the point of being miserable?
(with the food restrictions, not the yoga)
It turns out I am making changes, but the levels could drop some more.
My doctor told me "with all these measures for three months, I might be fighting "the inevitable"
A family history of high levels."
*sigh*
"If I want to stay off medicine for correcting it, keep doing what I am doing and add an Omega-3 supplement."
 *sigh*
and "BTW you have lost some real weight too...."
(well yeah, I can't eat anything fun anymore)
Can you tell I am a little bitter about this.

So here is where I turn lemons into lemonade:
I learned how to make "cheese" from nuts...well, cashew cheese.
I can now have a comfort "quesadilla"
I am learning to be that person who gets to live with a restricted diet,
I am choosing to accept it at this point.
I don't want to take medicine for cholesterol
Instead I get to take four big supplement pills with breakfast and my meals look like this:

Pistachio Mint Smoothie and a handful of almonds:
Local Pistachios, Fresh Mint Leaves, Banana, Agave
Nectar and Homemade Raw Sprouted Almond Mylk



My lunch box:
romaine, corn, lentil salad and homemade cashew cheese balls

dairy free/soy free yogurt, fresh berries and a vegan toaster waffle

my lemonade:

I got myself a
"congratulations on the three months strait of yoga girl,
those 4:30am wake-ups are a bitch "
dress from modcloth.
It is grey with little pink elephants in wine glasses all over it,
plus I am going to wear it to a wedding and
I had been drooling over for a long time, and even though
I didn't have the money for it,
I said FUCK I have had enough bullshit in my life to let that stop me.

SO The Barreness has taken control of my uterus, my family history has taken control of my food loves and now I am taking what I can back.
I am now a relectant vegan....ugh

Three years ago today

Today is the anniversary of my infertility art exhibition.

It opened three years ago, and I was terrified that people would be less than kind about my vision.

There were a few mean comments, some left in my visitor book, some delivered to me personally face to face; BUT the majority of the comments were sweet, kind, heartfelt and honest.

It changed me forever.

 

As I reflect on this day, I am thankful beyond words to be where I am now.

Although I am still infertile and I am still not going to be a parent in this lifetime.

I am also still married to my AMAZING wonderful Barren.

We are understanding and coming into ourselves as grown up kids

We are still asking questions and exploring what we want.

BUT

I am no longer scared or ashamed of my Barreness

I am not thinking of myself as first The Barreness and then all the other qualities of myself.

I am healing my perception of my body.

I am able to look at myself in the mirror and not be mad at my reflection.

I am not only my twisted and fused  reproductive system

I am growing

I am whole

I am strong

I am smiling

 

Putting down some bags

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I tried two new classes this week, they pushed me, hard.

I felt sluggish and needed a little kick in the ass, so I kicked myself.

The first class was the next level up from the classes I have been taken these last three months.
It was a good change; new poses and a faster pacein that 103degree room.

The second class I described to a friend as this:

 

OK I did it, I went to Sculpt this morning....It was like taking: cardio, step, aerobics, core and weight training in 100degrees with a few yoga moves thrown in for giggles. Oh it is was taught by a speed freak who was as tiny as a spider monkey! I am still red in the face and floating...I think I will stick to the level 2 for awhile...to build up my strength....or stamina. I actually was laughing at one point because everything was swirling around me so fast....

 

It was like being in a gym class, the teacher was yelling, the music was loud house music and the people in class were mostly athletic college students. I was way out of place!

 

Being out of place was good, in a weird way.

It highlighted that I don't need to fit into all the boxes.

A reminder that I am not like others and I have no desire to be.

I finished the class, and showered slowly and quietly. On the way out the yoga teacher that told me to give it a try saw that I had actually done it and congratulated me, and then asked what I thought.

I said:
 " it was not what I had expected, I think I need to build some endurance up before attempting another class"

She said she understood and that she didn't like crossfit

it made me giggle

 

I have carried that idea all week, push myself and accept things that I am not meant to be a part of.
 OR
Drop a few bags that I am done carrying.
I have bowed out of the women's business group for a couple months; I felt I wasn't really present as of late and I needed to be for myself and the others there.
So I am taking a little break.
 

I am also transferring responsibility for a nonprofit group that I have
been doing webwork for the last three years for.

It was hard to ask someone else to take over; but such a relief that the person I asked agreed without drama or hesitation. I am incredibly thankful!

And I am beginning to feel a little less weight on my shoulders.
I don't like saying no, or not volunteering when I know I can do what is needed.
but
Right now I am building a new me, and it requires that I stay focused on my goals and basic needs to build a firm and confident foundation.
So I am not saying yes to much right now....not to be mean but to be focused.
There are a few things coming up that I could say yes to but I have remained silent.
In the past these same people have asked for the same things and not reciprocated and it has left me feeling stepped on and used, so right now I am just focusing on me
being happy and giving in other ways and being kind.

If you haven't heard this speech yet here is a link to written version of
George Saunder's commencement speech,
it is inspired and moving and good words to live by as we drop our bags
and open our arms to new paths:
 

Focusing under a grey cloud

 

I think I am fighting some melancholy.

I think it is that, it seems grey and unformed.

I am not sure why....well maybe I do.

 

I am being tested it seems, or poked...or taunted, still unsure how I am reacting to that.

Maybe that is why I am unsure if it is melancholy or not.

 

I found out a friend is doing IVF, I have a new niece, one dozen children play daily outside my front door (literally, our front door and garage door are the start and end points of their games),

I got bamboozled into a yoga class this week taught by a woman who is visibly pregnant,

I have purposely not taken her classes as I am selfish and don't want to spend my hour thinking about her uterus being full with a baby.

It twisted my mind so much, that I wasn't focused in class,  and I imagined the sounds coming from outside the studio were those of crying babies and it pissed me off and I wanted to run from the class.

She mentions that she is pregnant in every class she teaches and looks like she swallowed a basketball. I heard her tell a student that her body was not meant to carry the weight of a baby, she misses being able to suck in her stomach...I rolled my eyes and fled to the lockers.

Ideally I can continue to avoid her classes.

 

There have been a lot of articles about infertility in the news recently,

both Pamela and Miriam's piece, as well as Tracey's piece too.

And of course this sent me to do some Dr Googling on stage IV endometriosis and chance of pregnancy, with IVF or otherwise.

The verdict: less then 5%

It was a stark reality check again,

and in many ways reassuring that I am not missing something.

 

So back to the focus on my work and self and relationship and the life I want.

A mentor told me the other day that I need to really focus on what I want, career wise,

and then work backwards from that point so I can make that a goal a reality.

 

Once I let go of the feeling that I was doing something wrong, I was left feeling that I have work ahead of me; panic set in and then yesterday I sat down with my yellow pads of paper and started writing down what I want. What my goals are and now I am working on figuring out how to work back from that point to make them happen.

Big leaps are involved and there are big empty spots too....

focus focus focus focus

oh look a shiny thing....

*sigh*

I think my first task is focusing well

I am not quite sure what the point of this post was.....ugh

Doing it...

Making sex fun again...yeah it is work!

Inspired by Stirrups Queens post today I thought I would chime in.

I have to work to have sex.
Not because I have an unwilling partner, but I have found that the pill is a serious libido killer.
Anyone else find that?

I felt strangely empowered when I was facing the loss of my ovary, and wanted to have sex a lot!
Then after surgery, I sort of coiled into myself.
Which is understandable...but I kept asking my doctor when is it safe to have sex again.
She seemed puzzled by my eagerness to want to jump right back into the game, but I stressed to her pre/post surgery that my sexual health was very important to me and I was concerned about it.

Now, as I create my new future, I am faced with a new challenge.
I have to really focus and put into the agenda of the week,
have sex with my love.

When I was little my parents were very open with how babies were made, and when I got older how to respect myself and others. I was a good girl with a serious sexually flirtatious streak.
I came of age at a time when sex was scary, AIDS was killing people left and right and I remember telling my high school boyfriend: "if we ever have sex, we are using condoms, spermicide, dental dams and I will also be on the pill" poor thing; he was a wonderful bashful puppy and agreed to whatever would make me comfortable.
College I was sexual, and content and had great partners who were interested in making me happy.
I enjoyed that A LOT
The Barren and I met then and we have been "doing it" a lot since then.
We have weathered a lot of issues, growing up together tends to introduce growing pains and we have had them. He is still an eager college boy in the sheets, ready at the drop of a hat.
 I on the other hand, find as of late, that I am simply trying to keep up or in the same room as him.
He being the sweet wonderful man he is, has thought up some libido experiments:
encouraging me to try and think about sex more,
act out, be crass
daydream, think up fantasies...go hog wild
 as an experiment.

We are both wanting my libido to fire up, re-wire the mechanics of the synthetic hormones that are surging thru my body, killing or whipping my endo into submission.
I mean I got a little peek at what my sex drive could be in my early 40's before I went back on the pill and it was AWESOME.
Now I am due to be on the pill again until menopause, I am stunted sexually
and have to really swim upstream to get my rocks off.
It sucks!
Sex after infertility is WORK; first disconnecting the baby making mindset and then trying to recapture your self identity, and finally summoning your inner sex goddess!



Self Study

image

While laying in a pool of my own making Friday afternoon, my teacher was talking about, "sriyaya",* self study, at least that is the word I heard through my own heartbeat and labored breathing. The word struck me as funny and I giggled to myself, making note to look it up and see if she really knew what she was talking about....she did.

 

I am finding that these classes are getting me closer to understanding myself....really getting a better picture of what I want to do, what I can do and what I have gladly left behind.

I am able to see myself in the mirror and not feel repulsed by who is looking back at me.

I see a hurt little girl, a strong but shaky woman who wants desperately to love herself again.

I am much gentler to her now.

Often in class, while I sit in a pose thinking this feels really good on my low back or makes me feel strong...I listen to my internal banter and it goes something like this:

 I want every one of my "sisters" to feel better

I want to create a class just for us infertiles. Like a club....

 Why would I want a labeled infertiles club? I wouldn't go to it...

that was a silly idea, breathe or you will puke...

 

I am breaking free from my own labels,

ones I seem to have tagged myself with and I no longer want to carry around or be.

I had a rough couple of weekends, feeling shaky in myself and my self esteem.

I went down a very dark hole and found it was very easy to stay there, angry and mean and unhappy.

I went to bed grumpy and repeated mean things to myself as a lullaby.

Then in the morning, I told myself that it was the wrong way. I needed to float above this Maury Povich show and walk away from this drama and negative self words.

It was a little like taffy but I kept going to class, and I kept my appointments and I walked further and further away from it. Not turning back, to see how far I had walked.
It is something, I find, I might always struggle with.
No matter how hard I work on myself, it is a constant practice of learning to love myself, learning to accept myself and finding ways to make peace with the mean voices.
I am neck deep in these books of self study....but it is helping slowly.
I can look at my newest niece and the first thoughts are not how come it is not me,
 but instead
Hello there you wonderful little one.

 

 

 

* Svadhyaya ("one's own going into")

Svadhyaya is the fourth of the five niyamas (observances towards ourselves). Sva means “self” and adhyaya means “investigation, inquiry, or education.” Teachers define svadhyaya as “Self-inquiry; any study that helps you understand yourself; the study of sacred texts.” These definitions all offer us different paths towards educating ourselves.

Wednesday

I saw a dead raccoon on the side of the road, with a "get well soon" balloon tied to it's hand. I wanted to jump out of the car to take a photo, but it was the freeway, and I realized that balloon could have then been for us both.

It Happened

**warning non traditional birth story**

 

 

 

It happened, I was present for another small persons entry into the world.

Mind you I was not in the room when she took her first breath, I was there when my SIL was laboring, at home screaming and breathing.

Let me back up

My brother asked if I could keep the kiddos company while my SIL "laid down" for a little bit.

I was suspect, but through mental telepathy (wonder twin powers, even though we are not twins)

I understood something was up.

When I arrived she was breathing with some serious effort...and said something felt weird...

and she was gonna laydown.

I hung out with the nephew and niece and watched a computer game

on how to apply makeup (e gads)

and some Mario brothers cartoon...

then I could hear my SIL breathing in the other room,

well three rooms away.

My niece was called in and asked to perform "busy work tasks"

and I followed her and helped where adult help was needed.

My SIL quickly went from breathing to panting, to screaming...and my niece was tasked to call her dad to " get home now!".

 

I was tasked with getting the kiddos to the hospital and the dogs to daycare (two large labs).

The labor party left and so the adventure began.

 

The nephew wanted a grilled cheese sandwich, the niece was running all over the place getting bags ready for sitting and waiting and asking to help with everything!

I was trying to get the nephew to pee before we left and he was in full blown protest!

I was burning the sandwich and the fighting with the nephew

as the dogs sat and watched the swirling all around them.

 

I finally gave up on the bathroom, and told my nephew "fine don't go". Then I asked him what was really going on? I sat quietly with him and explained that today is a big day and that it is totally OK to feel scared or sad about becoming a big brother. It is a really big deal, and important role! He said OK and then I turned and said lets go take the dogs to daycare, and get to the hospital to wait for your new little brother or sister.

The burnt sandwich was removed from the pan,

and cut into pieces and placed into a spiderman bowl for the car.

I started to gather the dogs, one had a leash and the others was MIA so we used a slipknot style loop for that one. My car was across the street, so I set the kiddos up at the front door, which they then migrated to the lawn and took the beasts across the street to my little car...I have a corrolla...

and the dogs are 75+lb each...

I got half way across the street with them when they both started to protest...

one slipped out of his collar leaving me holding the leash,

the other pulled back and ran up the street!

 

My niece got the wild one and sat on her until I could get her and I called the old one over and heaved him into the backseat.

I retrieved the other from my superhero niece and got her into the backseat too.

Then drove the car to meet the kiddos who were waiting on the lawn.

Car seat didn't fit into the backseat as the old dog had turned into a block of cement and needed to be physically pushed to allow me to buckle the belts....

Superhero niece had the old dogs butt and protesting nephew had the chin.

The other dog was in the front seat after much convincing. It was a car full of panting, screeching laughter; and off to dog care we went...

When we turned into the driveway, the dogs figured out where we were they were jumping all over the car....

getting them out of the car was no problem, but keeping them slightly under control was a big effort...I was dragged into the dog care ( a resort for dogs, swimming pool, play yard, 24hr attendants...super posh dog care) the kiddos were distracted by some great danes and after the two dogs were checked in we headed quickly back to the car to go to the hospital.

I had just buckled up the kiddos and my nephew looked and me, gave me a kiss and thanked me : "Thanks Auntie for my burnt grilled cheese, it is yummy (heart melts)"

 Then the cell phone rings :

Hello?

She is here (my brother crying on the phone)

What!? already!

Yep, bye

The kiddos and I were all together,

I was there for both of their births

and we were together for the birth of their sister!

 

It was wild and fast and crazy and I was so sososososo thankful that I was able to be a part of the day.

I didn't cry, I laughed...I felt so present and happy.

I was with who I wanted to be with, being a full real Auntie and it made me so very deeply happy.

We all left a voicemail for The Barren, as we headed to hospital

laughing at how funny Aunties car looked with two dogs and two kids and Auntie.

Breathe Deep

 

 

I really don't have much to say, at least it doesn't feel like it these days.

I am not mad or angry at much, I am not deeply saddened or depressed about much.

I am feeling quiet and content. Deeply so.

Like I am floating above chaos and breathing deeply the sweet air above.

 

I have completed my 5weeks of yoga, that the groupon* availed. I have changed my eating, in a way that makes me think more about what I am putting into my mouth and to be honest, it was easy. If anything, I am pretty bored of food now and tend to eat the same thing over and over out of lack of interest or motivation to do something else. I was eating a lot of food before that I wanted to simply fill me, I am pretty sure now, more emotionally than nutritionally.

*(groupon is a coupon program that you can get discounted services for a period of time, just long enough to either make you addicted or revolted and move on or move in)

 

I don't look like the other yoga students that fill my weekly classes,and that is OK. I am finding  that over time I am comparing myself less and less to others and just working on being comfortable in the skin I now possess.

I am slowly becoming friends with that reflection in front of me in the mirror. I understand

now that my desire for a flat tummy will never be, as my uterus is a permanent 10week size,

and I still eat goat cheese now and again.

That is one of the sweet things about this life of mine.

Learning and embracing that although I thought it was gonna be one way, it might actually be something else that is going to be sweet too.

 

None of the classes are spiritual in any way, I am finding for myself, it allows me in the post hyperventilation glow to find things that work well for me. 

 

At this point in my journey I am finding that I need to be in that yoga class at least 4 times a week.

I only go to the hot classes. I spend and hour sweating more then any other time in my whole life; for me, the sweating is another way of crying, and releasing all that sorrow, grief, weight and pushed down emotions. No one can tell if you are crying in those sweaty classes...no one cares.

It is so liberating and cathartic for me.

 I am doing less art right now, as all that energy is spent on my practice. I wake up at 4:30 in the am on some days to get to class before work. It feels good,

once I convince my eyes they really do want to be open.

 

I had a talk with myself asking, how much longer do I want to ask a question that I will never get an answer for or an answer I will like?

Do I still want to grieve, mourn and be debilitated by sadness?

What do I really want?

The answer for me was to simply be happy, just a casual unprocessed happy.

 

The Barren and I shared a meal last night (he has been traveling a lot for work) and he asked how I was, I told him that I stress about money when I need to think about it,

but other than that I am really content.

This are far from perfect and this life has been full of surprises, most of which were not good ones.

I feel now, that I am really working on a reincarnation, I picked a new path.

It is not easy, I still find myself watching adorable poppins play in fountains and squeal through parks and outdoor patios, but I find myself asking why not me a lot less.

 

Chilling

 

I wanted to check in with you

I am doing well, in fact I really feel like things are changing for real!

Today I am relaxing and collecting thoughts

I will be back soon

 

Have a peaceful weekend

be kind to yourself



Finding my way

I don't know exactly when it happened or how...but something has shifted in a new and better way.

Do you ever have those moments when you realize that after much effort and not much thought about how long you have been at it...it shifts.

 

I have recently realized this;  my eyes are clearing, my heart is lifting...my sadness is abating.

I don't know what I did, so I am hesitate to turn too quickly or jump up and down for joy.

I have been tested too, there is no doubt about that.

We had our 10 year old niece this last weekend and had fun for the most part, but there was a lot of negotiating. Like getting into the shower after the pool (first world problem I know), or begging her to finally go to sleep in the dark at midnight (after I had been up since 4:30am for yoga that same day), and then the final straw...me physically lifting her into the car to go home
and her crying over half way back.

I mostly thought, fuck, I am too old for this shit....

 

As she whimpered from the back seat folded over her pillow, I used phrases like:

" I hear what you are saying, I know you are disappointed, but we made a promise to be home at a certain time and we have to stick by it"

"I am sorry you are so frustrated, I understand you and know how you feel"
" It is breaking my heart that this is how our fun time is ending"

 

I then tried to regain normalcy, I knew she wouldn't talk to me, but she was listening, so I sang along with this song...and told her how it was my favorite one right now: 

 

 

 

as she heard my voice join the music she picked her head off the pillow,
and looked at me in a new way. I kept singing over and over
I love you
   I love you....
 

By the time we got home she was talking to me again, telling me how she was watching youtube videos about how to make "cat eyes" and I told her I would try to do them and

then send her a picture of my trials.

I have a 10year old niece, who I struggled to understand and keep up with all weekend long. The Barren and I both crumbled to dust when her crocodile tears appeared and we both realized that we are not at a point in our lives anymore where we could parent and play....

we can only do one or the other.

Is that wrong to admit ?

 

This was followed by me making a belly cast of my SIL who is due in just a couple weeks.

This whole pregnancy I have not asked to feel her tummy, I don't feel a need to anymore.

It is beautiful and she is careful to not complain about her pregnancy around me....I think that is really kind. As I was building the layers of plaster around, further and further away from her skin, I found that I started to admire the form, the round fullness and wondered why not mine...

it lasted for only a moment and then washed away, I felt light again...

I think I am really making a new neuro-pathway.

It is a delicate structure still, I understand that, but I am actually building it

and it feels quite empowering.

 

When I returned from the emotional roller coaster, The Barren and I went out for a glass of wine and cheese. We just dropped everything and did it...as we were slowly getting loopy we flirted with the idea of a late movie or a night time wander...for us the whole night was still ahead

Weapon of my own construction

I am crazed.

I went to yoga four times last week and have plans to do the same again this week.

I am addicted to the momentary feelings of freedom.

No one talks in class, no one shares baby pictures,

or complains about how they are exhausted from a sleepless night.

There are no children at the studio.

No prenatal classes, or kids classes.

I am free.

 

It is a strange sensation, a new one and I feel as though it is allowing me to forge my new path.

I am working hard to create this new vision for myself, but I am in with both feet!

I am making sure that I feel good, complete and without guilt.

That is no small potato

I am working hard in my art and in my relationships.

If it doesn't feel good, I smile and walk away.

 

Even in its short amount of time, I have found this return to my practice
has already served as a weapon of protection.

I had dinner with my crazy ass SIL and her sons on Friday, at The Barrens mom's place.
My nephews didn't recognize me, and asked The Barren who the stranger was.
Heartbroken, but not surprised I complimented them
on their good "stranger danger" reactions to my greetings.
At the dinner table, my SIL offered me her 5year old again.

Thankfully, this time she did it in front of her mother
and her father in law
 and The Barren
and in earshot of her eldest son.

I didn't respond.

I was floating in a post yoga bliss and all negative bounced off my lovely
iridescent bubble, and floated far away from me and my heart.
I have built a new weapon to battle hurt.
Self love, care and preservation

Wide Open

So I am totally addicted.

The first class was tough, I was told by others who had taken the class that the best thing to do was really hydrate yourself before class.
SO I really took this to heart and the pre-hydration preparation had me peeing every 10minutes!

I must admit, that everytime I drank a glass of water, my mind took me to thinking that I was preparing for a pelvic ultrasound; but I am retraining my neural pathways, and telling them

"nope you are drinking water because you are about to sweat so much it is gonna feel like all the butter you have ever eaten will be running out of your pores"
 

The first class was HOT, 105degrees, we selected the "hot class" kind of by accident, the others are listed as hot too but this one takes the cake. One of the two ladies I signed up with picked me up from work and we were both making jokes the whole time,
until we hit the heated room and then it was game time!

We took it slow, we dripped sweat, she made me keep my eyes open, so she "knew I was alive"
There were maybe 10 of us in there, one man and the rest women in various levels of practice and aside from my getting dizzy,
I completed to the best of my ability, 22 of the 26 postures.

We fought with the reflections in the mirrors and are starting to understand there is no hiding from them. I even caught myself seeing myself...but I still prefer to position myself in just the right way, that I can not make out my whole body.
We felt quite happy when we were done and I felt like I had taken a bunch of speed,
after the internal blast furnace shut off.

Yesterday we all went to the level two class, this one is only 90degrees and was PACKED with beautiful people. The teacher spoke quickly to keep the pace up and I was drenched in 10minutes, and confused what pose I was suppose to do but I was able to stop when I got weak or dizzy and there was no judgement. I caught sight of my friends in their practice and we all were in our own minds and bodies. Each of us sporting a beet red face. I can say it is quite startling to see myself as I am PALE, PALE person and then I have a fuchsia face...it is something to behold.
The class moved fast and reminded me that I use to really enjoy this, I use to practice 4x a week right after The Barren and I got married. The lady next to me was recovering from an injury and she mentioned that very thought. " we always say how great we felt when doing yoga, or I was in such great shape...and then we walk away from it. Why?"

As we rounded out the class there was a chance to hold Tree Pose however you felt it should be.
Hands at heart, above your head, behind you, twisted....
Without thought, just by pure action I found my arms shoot straight out-
outreached at my sides, heart lifted and a smirk!
I was welcoming in this new action
I felt free
Free of guilt, sadness, sorrow, shame, pressure

I am wide open



Smell of ink

I've been a little MIA, sorry about that.

I have been dealing with panic attacks and reality checks

and striving to live in between it all.

 

 

I haven't had black tea in over a week, I have cut most of the things I need to from my diet.

I got a jump rope and did a little jogging the other day...

I don't run, I never have but always fantasied about it.

Sadly, my knees were made wrong for running and all it does is deteriorate my cartilage, I use to be a StairMaster maven, but when the crackling in my knees became too much the doc explained how my knees are built wrong for that much impact...so low impact to no impact is way better for the longevity of them. 

I convinced myself that if I was out walking why not try a little trotting, it was early morning and

no one would see me, as I was totally embarrassed that I would look like a total fool.

Just as I started to jog my next door neighbor turns the corner and sees me

trotting, huffing and I smile and jog past her.

I was mortified.

I have taken to just power walking again....

 

Then I got an email from a friend telling me of this great deal for yoga.

She was signing up and so was another friend...

so I fought all my interior voice that were screaming

" are you crazy!"

and signed up for a month of what turns out to be HOT yoga and "powercore" at that!

Ugh

Humility will step aside once again...

while this lovely pear goes to yoga with the beautiful beanpoles.

 

I am also working away like a busy little Barreness.

I am printing up what has turned out to be a small storm, the house smells of ink and baby oil.

I am making progress and that seems to be lulling the panic as I can see the progress,

although there is still a lot to do before the window dressing on the 18th.

I have two friends that are willing to help with whatever I need last minute help with...

thankful

so thankful

 

In the meantime I am happy

ironically

I am given more restrictions and more pressure and I am smiling.

go figure

 

Shifts and Alterations

      Mind you this is literally day one, but I am making plans!

I got my blood results back and aside from needing to take a multivitamin,
my cholesterol is acting all wackadoodle!

I have been a lacto-ovo vegetarian for 23years, often flirting with veganism...
I don't drink milk, but I really love goat cheese.

Normally this fat in the blood thing doesn't come into play...

but as I age I am finding that genetics might be factoring into things.
 

My father has to take meds for cholestrol, but he kind of uses it as a "this will fix my food choices" medication and his doctor really doesn't care. I love him, but he also considers fast food a realistic option for meals on a regular basis, and runs from most veggies.
For me, the only thing that has changed from last years results when I had a lower level,

is that I am back on BCP and I am drinking a lot of black tea.

 

green tea this morning

 

I did some research on the "dr googles" and found that the BCP can effect triglyceride levels.

I love scapegoating the pill, it is a double edged aide in my life.

 

My doctors have had me do this before; I have swapped out egg whites for whole eggs,

and stopped eating cheese (and just about went insane) and my level lowered a little
...but not significantly.

So this time I am attacking the results in a new way.

I am stopping my morning black cup of tea with 2teaspoons of sugar.

( I will allow myself a cup of almond milk chai 2x a week, I have to not punish myself)

 

I am also researching the anti-inflammatory diet for controlling/suppressing endo.
That also suggests moving to green and oolong teas
(there are now a MILLION tea shops so I am sure there will be a good replacement)
So this swap will be two-fold
and

I am also getting an indoor exercise thing, jump rope or something like it.

I figure I can attack stress this way too and do little workouts throughout the day instead of the daunting "chunk of time" that always seems to allude me with my upside down schedule.
(I get up at 5am for work commute for an hour to work, but home often takes longer and I am often home after 6pm....then dinner and email and bed by 10...on days without classes or business meetings after work)

I am pissed about this result...I have spent a good portion of my life controlling what I eat and to further reduce my options drives me nuts and feeds that destructive part of my brain that makes me think I am fat and lazy and unpretty because of a number.

So I am calling in my "I'm gonna handle this inner femme fatale"
and instead of being really angry, I am just gonna fight back.

Deep down, I fear the number will not really reduce that much,
but I want to at least feel like I am trying everything.
Sound familiar?!
 



A Glimpse

(source)

The Barren and I went to breakfast alone on Saturday morning.
We woke up early and drove to a new bakery, ordered a handmade pastry, and ate outside.
I had my feet up, barefoot on a chair, he and I were shaded under a big flowering tree.
We watched the traffic go by, people watched and commented.
A slow start to the day, with gentle wind and giggles.

A young family arrived as were wrapping up our meal, we watched them. Chasing the littlest one, closing the iron gate into the courtyard we were sitting in so the little one wouldn't dash out into traffic. Changing the set up of the seating area. We admired the kids, and the calm nature of the family but didn't seem to be saddened by this missed moment in our lives.
We were relishing the alone time we had, the freedom of movement we possessed.

We left, and went home, passing time before heading to a friend's party.
There was a half hour before the start time of the festivities and at that moment, as we heard the neighborhood children playing outside, screaming and running; we decided to make love.
Right in the middle of the day, with the door to our bedroom open.
It was passionate and spontaneous and we didn't have to plan around children.

It was a moment in time when I saw what was ahead for us.

We had freedom unlike the other people in our small community of neighbors.
We walked to the party afterwards, a little late, and enjoyed the rest of the day with friends.
There were children at the party, and their nearby parents.
People that are trying to become parents and people who don't want to be parents.
Throughout the party when The Barren found me he covered me in kisses,
when I came up to him I walked up and did the same.

It was almost like a dream, so smooth and calm and serene.
If that is my future with The Barren, then I can walk a little more confidently into it.

Sick and tired

Sorry for being MIA for a while there, I got my annual cootie and it has stuck around far far far longer then I had patience for.

Let me back track...

 

After the ultrasound I went to get a massage, because I was sooooooooooo freaked out and worked up over it. I haven't had a massage in over a year and just wanted a "relax all is really gonna be fine" kind of massage...

Well the massage woman pretty much bruised me and then rubbed my feet to make me fall asleep and then sent me on my way...

Clearly she wielded some hypnotic powers over me as I walked out of the spa, sliding in my sandals from all the oil on my skin and cruised right into the children's clothing store next door and bought two things for what will be a new niece or nephew at the end of August.

I was only hearing the sounds of chimes from the darkened massage room as I shopped next to the overly pregnant shoppers, still unaware of the cootie that had been released within.

A day later I had a funny crackle in my chest, and by that night a low fever and sore throat.

 

I usually give myself 48hours of "icky" time, I can only really deal with being that patient with a cold. Well, this one had other plans as after 48hrs, it got worse and had me in my doctors office asking her to drain my head and replace my throat. Sadly because I am allergic to all things holy in cough medicine I had to play "medicine cabinet petri dish" with over the counter cold medicine to find the right combination of things that would suppress the rib cracking cough.

I got no sleep for over four nights and then on Monday The Barren cracked the code:

1. when settling into sleep, sip water every 5 seconds for three minutes

2. take a cap full of DayQuil

3. after one hour had passed, take an expired benydrl and wait...

4. fall into a coma so deep the cough can not permeate it

5. avoid the alarm clock at 5am and snooze until 5:45 then

6. soak self in shower and start your day of work.

 

I am sleeping on my own now and playing catch up....

I ended up spending a week at home, moaning groaning and pacing

I was BEYOND bored and exhausted

When I sat still, I was freaking out over all the deadlines that were passing me, and how much more behind I would be. When I tried to work, it would lead to hours staring and when I typed something, it looked something like this:

"I am in this thing, it is big and interesting, you should see it"

I decided to spare you from those colorful descriptions and grand scenes.

 

I also now have a new appreciation of what the cats feel like, as thrilled as they were with their couch was here ALL the time, I know what it feels like to be an indoor cat.

Wake up change places of sitting,

watch birds on patio,

drink water,

sleep,

move to new sitting place,

sleep,

snack on something unpleasing,

sleep, move to new sitting space...repeat

 

My cell phone was filled with pictures of the cats,

as they were my constant companions

see:

when I was sitting up

When I was leaning back

I am a horrible patient and have no patience for colds.

Thankfully, this one has started moving out.

 

The Barren was sad to hear " the raspy 5pack a day cigarette " voice leave.

apparently that is his favorite part of my colds.

Me being a total stubborn person that doesn't want to do anything suggested for the first two days is his least favorite part.

 

I promise my next post will be better....

 

and the results say...

 

After dealing with a mountain of nerves in the anticipation and an exploding stomach
(from said nerves)

I went and got my (self advocated) 6.5 month ultrasound recheck post surgery.

I travel to another nearby town to check into a hospital and have the most rockstar tech, Ms. Fabulous, perform my test. She is a transplant to the country and use to be a high risk pregnancy nurse. She is crazy compassionate and I have been talking with her for so many years now, we have shared portions of our stories while she is "wanding" me. She is also a teaching tech, so she often has other women techs with her. Yesterday was no exception...well yesterday was exceptional. I don't care for the exam, I am sure no one does, but after about 20 of them they don't bother me. I do not like the preparation bladder expansion portion, as I need to drive half an hour to get to the hospital, so the drive is me hoping that I have consumed enough water to blow up my bladder but no so much that I piss myself when I arrive.

Ms. Fabulous, got me into the room and introduced me to the tech, asked why I was there-you know the general stuff and when I told her about the surgery and I had two really bad cycles that scared me; I was self advocating and getting this exam to make sure nothing new was filling the space.

The tech looked at me and told me she had a cyst that took her ovary at 20, and that they did a c-section size surgery to remove the ovary. She was now past menopause and was glad to be done with the pain of endo. She told me she felt for me. (that was nice)

As Ms. Fabulous started the exam, we laughed chatted and she said she could see my "guys" which is what we call the fibroids (Ms Fabulous says cysts and fibroids are boys) then my uterus came on screen and I said "there is my girl!" She smiled and she typed uterus on the screen...the student asked if I had children...I said no, that is what my last 8 years was a quest for...but it didn't happen.

She was quiet. Then Ms Fabulous told me her mother called telling her that her daughter could not possibly be happy without children (Ms Fabulous doesn't have kids) we commiserated that parents often don't get it. I told her that my MIL told me she was disappointed we didn't adopt and that it was easy. The student piped in and said " UM no it is not, I adopted and it was one of the hardest longest things I did" I told her I told my MIL we couldn't bear another heartbreak.

We had formed a solidarity in that darkened room, with a wand up my vagina admiring my uterus that I have fought so hard to keep.

The very early unofficial reports are in, well according to my AMAZING ultrasound tech, she confirmed that my left ovary still has no additional growths.

She had a hard time finding my right ovary because

the endo has pulled it pretty far behind my uterus but she did.

She told me I had "small birth controlled ovaries", she said that she had to triple check as she has become so familiar with my endometrioma that she couldn't believe she was looking at my reproductive system.
I thanked her as always for sharing what she saw, that I never hold her to her word, as I know she is not suppose to say a thing...but I am so glad she does, because a weekend of worry is not healthy and she agrees. I left feeling strangely normal and unconcerned.
I had booked a massage to follow the ultrasound, as I knew I would be pretty worked up about it.
The masseuse, was OK, I am bruised today, which doesn't feel very relaxing...but I can float over that, as I am holding onto the potential good news for now.
The nurse from my doctors office should call with the results Monday or so and
say her famous first words to me:
"Hi honey it is me, well you have fibroids but you know that already...."
 

Hiding

I seem to be hiding, well not obviously hiding but, symbolically speaking.

I have spent way too much time with a project that should have taken a week to complete but instead we are looking at over a month now...and I am putting myself up against a wall to the deadline.

It is like I am finding distractions or something.

Remember how I told you I had signed up for a figure drawing class. Well I pretty much have found an excuse to skip it almost every week since I first signed up. Too tired, uninspired...not wanting to go. I can figure a myriad of reasons not to go, and

we are talking about a class that is for MY PLEASURE.

Well I dragged my ass back to class this week, it probably helped that the instructor decided that the punch card had an expiration date and my penny wise self decided that $50 for a single class was too much, so I better go and get my monies worth.

I was the first one there, and then I was in the car ready to talk myself out of staying,
waiting to see if anyone else was going to arrive, and then they did.
So I went in, got a spot and cleared my mind...
I was going to draw, it was good for me...
it will clear this desire to procrastinate...
buying dresses online instead of work on art pieces isn't gonna swing anymore
and this will help me reintroduce myself to my inner workings.

The model arrived, she was young and appeared to be a dancer maybe...
she had long legs and arms and was stretching a lot.
The classroom filled with people and drawing boards.
She remained clothed and once the posing started it was obvious this was one of her first gigs.
She stood, bent and then sat.
She was not dynamic, not inspired, not practiced at posing.
She wasn't able to hold still for even the 1 minute warm ups
and
I think she had a crush on one of the male artists in class,
as her eyes (then head) kept turning towards him.
I was less then inspired and starting fighting with the "flee, run from here and hide" voice in my head.

When it was time for her first "long pose", 20minutes, she proceeded to curl into a fetal ball on top of the table and fight falling asleep.
She hid all her lines, and shifted multiple times.
She was hiding from the artists gaze; it was clear to me that she wanted to disappear.
*
I ended up doing blind contour drawings for the rest of the time.
(blind contour is an exercise in looking. You only look at the subject and keep your pencil on the paper and draw what you see, never looking at what you are drawing until you are done.
note image above)
I drew multiple pieces and then started to simply write what I was seeing,
I was loosing my fight with the "run and hides"
The class had started with the teachers ipod playing the whole first side of Strange Days it was mixed with the sounds from the next door studio; which was playing rehearsal music for the troop of ballet dancers, classical piano pieces. When the instructor realized the slurry of sounds, we had heard it for half an hour. She turned off her music and it was strangely quiet, but for the looped classical music now and then.
I made it an hour...I told the teacher I got a text and needed to leave.
this is what I wrote when I was not drawing:

The dog entered the room and serpentine through the easels
eager to greet every artist in the room.
The room was quiet but for the sounds coal, ink and brush on paper,
or erasers pulling coal from paper.
I can hear the almost muted sounds from a nearby set of headphones.
The sounds of ballet instruction bleeds through the walls-
the thumps of dancers landing on floors is synchronized.  
The model, despondent, laid on a piece of foam, on a counter, on top of cabinets
illuminated by three stainless floodlights.

I felt it was best I leave, as I was fearful I would start to grimace or simply stare at the wall or her the rest of the time. That would be creepy and weird, I couldn't be those things.
 So I went home and spent the night wrestling with my choices.
The ones I was struggling with for the timeline,
the media that was mocking me,
the desires I wanted to recapture.
I might be hiding, I admit it.
Is it bad that I am hoping this respite turns out to be a metamorphosis?
 is that to much to ask of myself, of my destiny?
If I am the master of my destiny, can I not want that?
Or is wanting a bad thing?
I am new at shaping my life, I normally didn't put much thought into it...now it seems that if I don't pay attention it will be shaped for me in my absence.
That is a big deal
How do you run towards something?
When you are fearful that it might make you feel exposed?